GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #78: NIGHT OF THE LIVING BOOZER

Once upon a time, I was one of the hardest drinking motherfuckers you could ever meet. Every night, you'd find me at a different bar, hanging out with friends. Mondays were Doc Ryan nights, because they had dollar pints. Tuesdays were Elmhurst Public House nights, because they had dollar personal pitchers. Wednesdays were, I think, random bar nights. My memory is fuzzy about that one, but I think I'm recalling correctly. Thursdays were spent at Seven-Ten, but I forgot the drink special. Fridays were Spring Inn nights, because drinks there were always cheap, and they were five minutes away from home. And more often than not, Fridays ended at Brauerhouse, because they were open even later than the Spring Inn, and they were even closer to my place.


Now? I don't have specific drinking nights. If there's a special outing, of course I'll drink. And if it's Friday or Saturday, I'll probably have a few drinks. But it was nothing like in my drinking prime. I miss those days.


My pancreas stopped working a while back, so I've got to be careful. Even if that hadn't happened, my wallet has gotten considerably lighter, so I've got to be careful about that, too.


Tonight, we had an unofficial work outing. Ordinarily, I'd be one of the last fuckers at the bar, reluctant to go home even after being about ten drinks in. Tonight? I left before midnight, and I barely had a buzz.


It's like I barely know myself. I miss the old days of getting hammered and blacking out and trying to piece together the mystery of last night. That's why I enjoyed THE HANGOVER as much as I did. When you get down to it, it's about solving the mystery of whatever the fuck you did last night. It's almost like trying to figure out a novel by William Faulkner.


Those days are behind me. Except . . . sometimes, I get the urge to become Future Booze Jesus again. I might do that later this year. Maybe for New Year's Eve. I probably shouldn't, because my pancreas might stop working again, but I'm feeling nostalgic.


One of my coworkers/friends reminded me of a time when we used to get drunk and spend the night at another coworker's/friend's place. When I woke up the next morning, I saw an unfinished drink. The first thing I did? I reached down and drank the fucker.


I miss those days. I need to drink more often.

JAMES FRANCO HAS GIANT FUCKING BALLS: A review of AS I LAY DYING

The top three William Faulkner novels in order of awesomeness: THE SOUND AND THE FURY, ABSALOM, ABSALOM! and AS I LAY DYING. He’s one of the most important American writers in history. He helped change so much with his style that he’s an indispensable figure in the literary world. Yet, even though he was also known as a screenwriter—most notably for THE BIG SLEEP—his work is nearly impossible to adapt into a movie. This is because his novels are by and large internal to the characters. The plots are very simple, but the intricacies of those who inhabit them are so deeply entrenched in the work that it makes for shitty cinema. To adapt one of these novels would take giant fucking balls.

James Franco, who directed this movie, co-wrote the screenplay and starred in it, has those giant fucking balls.

Let’s face it, Franco’s great in everything he does. He’s a Renaissance man. Poetry, painting, acting, philosophy, he does it all, and he’s really good at it. This time, despite his giant fucking balls, he’s bitten off more than he can chew. That’s fine. It’s possible that there will never be a person who can adapt Faulkner to the screen. But dammit, he gives it his all, and one has to respect that kind of dedication.

On the surface, this movie is very simple. It’s the tale of the Bundren family and what happens when their matriarch dies. Addie Bundren has been sick for a while, and when she finally dies, her family is obligated to take her corpse on a long journey back to her hometown, where she wants to be buried. Murphy’s Law is strong with this family, because everything that can go wrong, does go wrong. And that’s it.

But the characters make this a very complicated story. There’s Anse, the patriarch, who will do anything for a new set of teeth. Cash is the dutiful son who builds his mother’s coffin. Darl, who fucked his sister, Dewey, and gets her pregnant. Jewel, the rebel who does his best to stick with his family, but only on his own terms. And Vardaman, the kid of the group who has associated his dead mother with a catfish he caught. This is a rich field for storytelling.

But where Franco as a director comes short is how he deals with these characters. It’s easy to see why he made these decisions, and he had the best of intentions in mind, but it just doesn’t work. First of all, a lot of this film uses a split screen, and sometimes, the split screen shows something happening in the near future on one side while depicting the present on the other. Faulkner’s style is very jarring, and it takes a lot of effort to stick with it and decipher the mystery of what’s going on. It’s kind of like solving a Rubik’s Cube. Franco’s style with this movie is certainly jarring, but the problem is that it doesn’t present the puzzle of Faulkner’s work. It’s style for its own sake, and it rarely serves the story’s purpose. The only time split screen has ever worked for anything is the TV show, 24, where it added urgency and speed to a fast-paced show. Here, it just makes viewing difficult.

Another problem Franco tried to solve is the inner monologue of every character. The novel is narrated by just about everyone, and Faulkner has no mercy for his readers. You have to pay attention to figure out who is narrating any given chapter. Granted, there is no easy way to adapt this style to the screen—there might not be ANY way to do it—but Franco gives it his best. What he comes up with is the reality show confessional. He gets close-ups of the characters talking directly to the viewers. Here, it comes off as cheesy and distracting. One is hard pressed to figure out a better way to handle this, but while a noble thought, it clunks too much and takes one out of the film.

But enough with how the movie fumbles. Here is a list of things Franco gets right. He’s got a great eye for beauty, and this comes through best in the scene when the Bundren family tries to cross a river with the coffin in the back of their wagon. Things go horribly wrong, and the wagon gets knocked over. The brothers go sprawling, and the coffin floats down the river, and the way Franco depicts this is sheer wonderment. He has a tendency to overdo it, as if he’s trying too hard—and he is, since he wants to do justice to a book he values a great deal—but in that sweet spot before lingering too long, it’s perfect.

He’s very good with intense scenes, like when Cash’s leg gets broken, and the doctor has to set it. Also, later when Cash needs to get his foot amputated due to gangrene . . . wow. Jim Parrack, better known as Hoyt from TRUE BLOOD, does an amazing job as Cash, especially in that scene as he has to try to stay calm and ignore the pain as the doctor uses a bone saw on his leg. Another great scene is when Vardaman sees the buzzards on his mom’s coffin, and he runs around like a madman, trying to scare the birds away. Best of all is the barn-burning scene, when Jewel runs in, to pull Addie’s burning coffin out, severely searing his back in the process.

Franco’s also good with humor. In one great moment, Anse has Addie’s corpse put into the coffin upside down, because she’s wearing her favorite dress, and he doesn’t want it to get wrinkled. In another moment, the Bundren boys fumble with the coffin in getting it from the house to the wagon, and they nearly drop it. To top it all off, Tim Blake Nelson makes for the perfect redneck with his grotesque mouth and his slack-jawed demeanor. In some moments, he comes off a lot like Ernest P. Worrell’s great uncle Lloyd.

This is another area where Franco excels: the actors. That Franco is awesome as Darl is a given. Beth Grant brings amazing life to Addie, even though she’s not alive for much of the story. Logan Marshall-Green plays an intense Jewel, especially in the end as he digs his mother’s grave with his burned back. Ahna O’Reilly gets Dewey down perfectly, especially in her fury at her brother for having sex with her. The scene where she exchanges sex for an abortion is definitely shocking. It’s not a sex scene. No, this is more akin to rape, and her demeanor shows it loud and clear.

And then there’s the shocker of the group: Danny McBride. While there is a great deal of humor in this story, it is played straight for the most part, bringing nervous, tragic laughs instead of the over-the-top hilarity McBride usually brings to a role. He plays it really straight, the consummate redneck. He’s really good in this movie. It’s a shame that he’s not around long enough.

Of course, the acting isn’t perfect. Most of the movie is mumbled, so you have to turn the volume waaaaaaay up. Because of this, the film seems to have a slower pace, which may frustrate some viewers. However, stick with it. The ending pays off big time.

While Franco and his team did their best, this is a flawed film. Yet it’s worth watching it. This might be the closest Faulkner’s novel comes to being a good movie. Good news: Franco is working on a film version of THE SOUND AND THE FURY. See? He’s got a giant fucking set of balls on him. One can only hope that he’s learned from AS I LAY DYING, so that he can figure the next one out better. (Wouldn’t it be great to see what he can do with SANCTUARY?)

It’s hard to recommend this movie, because it’s painful to watch great ambition fall just a bit too short. It will take dedication to make it through, but for the few who take this journey with the Bundrens, it is as rewarding as a movie based on a Faulkner book can get.

AS I LAY DYING

Directed by James Franco

Written by James Franco and Matt Rager

Released by Millennium Entertainment

109 minutes

2013

THROUGH THESE CATARACT EYES

[NOTE:  I HAD SENT THE PREVIOUS TWO STORIES AND A NUMBER OF OTHERS TO A FLASH FICTION ZOMBIE ANTHOLOGY WHICH SHALL REMAIN NAMELESS.  THE EDITOR KEPT SAYING THAT I WAS SHOWING AND NOT TELLING WITH THESE STORIES.  THIS IS A VALID ARGUMENT FOR "BITE ME," BUT IT WAS A STYLISTIC CHOICE I MADE.  THE REST OF THE STORIES WERE DEFINITE EXERCISES IN SHOWING.  I ONLY SHOWED YOU GUYS "THE LADY AND THE TRAMP" BECAUSE IT WAS THE ONLY GOOD ONE OF THE BUNCH.  THERE WERE PLENTY OF REASONS WHY THE OTHERS SHOULD HAVE BEEN REJECTED, BUT TELLING-NOT-SHOWING IS NOT ONE OF THEM.  THIS PISSED ME OFF, SO I WROTE THE FOLLOWING STORY, WHICH IS NOTHING BUT SHOWING.  THE EDITOR REJECTED ME AGAIN, PROBABLY BECAUSE THIS STORY PISSED HIM OFF.  IT IS BY NO MEANS GOOD, BUT I THINK IT'S FUCKIN' HILARIOUS.  HOPEFULLY, SO WILL YOU.  JUST THINK OF THIS AS ZOMBIE FICTION IF WILLIAM FAULKNER HAD TRIED HIS HAND AT IT.]

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